


the soul of a gypsy, the heart of a hippie, the spirit of a fairy

by NilleBrein1997, prost_girl



Series: The World According to Jules Ricciardo [10]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, hippie, i want to be isla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NilleBrein1997/pseuds/NilleBrein1997, https://archiveofourown.org/users/prost_girl/pseuds/prost_girl
Summary: In which Isla Ricciardo is her lovely bohemian self, and a relationship begins to blossom.





	

_ She has the soul of a gypsy, the heart of a hippie, the spirit of a fairy… _

 

Isla Ricciardo had always been a wild one. After bad breakups she wouldn’t cry and wallow, she would cleanse her soul, spirit, and body. She had taken a road trip with some school friends across America, and come back a different person. The hippie in her that had been lying under the surface was now blossoming in full force. Her parents would agree that she was happier, more content, and they were happy as long as she was. Sometimes she would go off the radar for a few weeks, and would return having been to a random country and returned with another tattoo and some more yoga tips. Her older brother Jules had captured a photo of her on the Räikkönen’s yacht in Monaco harbour, sitting at the very front of the boat doing yoga with a camera on one side of her and a can of beer on the other, which summed her up perfectly. Though she went on countless yoga retreats in Asia, her favourite place in the world was the Ricciardo beach house in Australia. Once she came back from that road trip, and was ‘fully-formed’ as her father liked to put it, they built her a small area on the beach house to be her own. It had a hammock chair, a piano, and a small table with cushioned seating surrounding it. It was big enough for her to do yoga early in the morning, and play piano late at night. Summer days were spent on the beach, the collective Ricciardo-Vettel-Grosjean clan enjoying their private part of a supremely beautiful beach. Evenings were spent out in town or, more often than not, at the beach house. They would always spend one evening listening to the music Isla had been working on for the last year. She was a beautiful singer, unlike her father. 

 

It was this that charmed Patrick Magnussen one summer. 

 

When Daniel had invited Kevin and Simone Magnussen, along with their four children, to the Beach House for the summer, they had readily accepted. Well, Simone had accepted and Kevin just went along with it because what idiot argues with their wife about spending winter and Christmas in Australia rather than in cold Denmark? When the Magnussens arrived, they were greeted with the collective Ricciardo-Vettel-Grosjean clan. The only person not there to greet them was Isla. She was composing, and nobody had dared disturb her. Patrick Magnussen, who was Isla’s age, was sharing a bedroom with her. He didn’t mind. Nor did she. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend, and was still returning her soul and spirit to wear they should be. As everybody explored, Patrick followed the music he could hear, and found Isla. Knocking on the door to her deck, so he didn't startle her, he saw the girl he had been in love with as a teenager. 

“Isla?”

“Patrick?” Isla almost screamed as she got up from her stool and ran at her friend. She and Patrick had been close growing up. They hugged, and before Patrick knew what was happening, she was dragging him to her bedroom, the one they would be sharing. As soon as he entered the room, Patrick felt like he was in another world. There were tapestries and wall hangings covering every surface, including the ceiling. Fairy lights were dotted around, and there were various crystals and candles dotted around.

“Put your swimming trunks on” Isla instructed. She had a surprise for Patrick.

“What?” He replied, confused.

“I said, put your swimming trunks on. I have a surprise!” She answered, before running from the room. She came back a minute later, and led him to the Hammock. It wasn’t a hammock per se, but that’s what they called it. In truth, it was a strong piece of netting pinned to a rectangular frame, hanging off the decking area and over the sea. The Grosjean-Ricciardo-Vettel-Räikkönen men had built it one year. 

 

Isla and Patrick sat there for hours, one or other of them occasionally going to get food or drink. Isla had Fleetwood Mac playing from her phone, both of them dancing as much as they could without falling in. They hadn’t seen each other in years, not since they’d both stopped going to race weekends. Isla went to the Monaco Grand Prix every year, because she lived near her parents in the province. Patrick had stopped going a few years back, when he’d gone to University in Copenhagen. He would write Isla letters on his typewriter whilst at Uni, and she would write back on tea-stained paper, giving him tips on how to stay calm during his exam period using yoga, not that she had gone to University. 

 

Sitting on the hammock, they were as comfortable around each other as they’d ever been. The ‘adults’ watched from the house, as the pair talked and talked. Jules and Matilda watched on from their balcony. 

“I can’t believe my little sister is so grown up” Jules said, after a while of watching Isla and Patrick mess about together on the Hammock.

“Jules, she’s only 4 years younger than you…” Matilda replied.

“Yeah, but…” Jules trailed off. He and Matilda had gotten married earlier in the year, and Isla had been more excited than anyone. Isla had been her usual, bohemian self at the wedding, and had charmed all the extended Vettel relatives that had never met any of the Ricciardo clan before. After they returned from their honeymoon in the Maldives, Isla realised that it was her turn next. She wasn’t too fussed about getting married. She’d had enough bad relationships in her late teens and early twenties to put her off it for a while. 

“Julian, she’ll be okay.” Matilda pointed down to her sister-in-law and Patrick, who both had settled down on the hammock. This had been one of the first times that Matilda had used Jules’ full name after their wedding and he knew that she used it to get him to really listen to what she was saying. “Look at her. She’s happy.”

“Yeah. She seems like it.” Jules let a small smile ghost over his lips as Isla and Patrick were still sitting and talking on the hammock, a few laughs escaping from them here and there.

“Well, I think having Patrick here helps her a lot. Especially after… what’s his name? Andy? Randy?”

“Randolph.” Jules spit out. Yeah, Randolph hadn’t been popular in Jules’ camp. He’d become fairly unpopular fairly quickly with Isla too. 

  
  


Eventually, Patrick and Isla were called inside by Elle so they could have dinner with the rest of the family. They slowly made their way inside, enjoying the last bit of the setting sun as they went. As the families gathered around the massive table, also made by the Grosjean-Ricciardo-Vettel-Räikkönen men, Patrick and Isla settled down beside each other. Small smiles were shared between them to the secret delight of Matilda, who was sitting across from them. Matilda had always said to Jules that Isla would end up with Patrick. Ever since she’d seen Patrick following her around the Monaco Paddock, Matilda knew that he and Isla would get married. She’d even made a bet with Jules about it. Jules had always said that Patrick was too ‘square’ for his little sister, but even he could see it. 

  
  



End file.
